Dear Somone: A Snail Mail Collective Invitation

I truly can’t remember when I discovered the idea of a pen pal, but in second or third grade I became the consistent pen pal of my Grandma Dot and the inconsistent pen pal of my Aunt Karen. I still remember the gorgeous loops of both of their cursive writing and the pure unbridled joy of receiving a stamped envelope with my name on it. Maybe it was that adorable mailbox on Blues Clues singing “here’s the mail it never fails” (sorry, that’s gonna be stuck in that brain a minute, millennials) …a song I used to sing to my nephew when he was one year old every single time I came to visit him as though I personally was the mail that was delivered for his delight. He is nearly 15 now. I’m not crying, you are! I diverge. The point being, I have always loved the slow labor of writing and receiving mail. The way Kathleen Kelly loves the smell of freshly sharpened pencils in the fall.

In 2020, my Grandma Willa Mae, who basked in daily (hourly, minutely?) visitors, reaping the benefits of raising 9 children and their abundant procreation, went into quarantine, forcing the visitors to abruptly cease. We didn’t understand then that social isolation could be just as dangerous as the virus itself. To keep her company in my own way, I picked up my pen palship devotion once again. I wrote her daily 2020-2021 and weekly from 2022 until her passing in 2023. I did not have the foresight for this at the time, but her answers to my incessant questions- “how did you and grandpa meet?”, “what was buying your first house like?”, “tell me about a memory from high school” and letters that accompanied them have become my most prized possessions. It is indelible to hold the paper and ink that your loved one once held, while penning thoughts in conversation with you. Something about cherishing the slow and present intentionality it takes to write a letter is more precious than I can clearly name.

(A scan of one of my grandma’s letters, January 2022. She never failed to offer my partner a hug or kiss with me as the vessel, that is how unbound her love was.)

I wanted to pass the same spirit to my nieces and nephews. So rather than kitschy souvenirs, when I travel I write post cards with facts and pictures of the places I visit. What I’m saying under the handwritten words and 4x6” paper from a specific state or country is, “wherever I am, I’m thinking of you”. I have been doing this since they were much too young to understand or care. I currently write my nearly 3 year old nephew that also does not have the wherewithal of the meaning of a postcard. My love is a very slow and loyal burn. Yet, on a recent trip alongside some of them, I was purchasing an inordinate amount of post cards and two of them shared how they keep all the snail mail I send in a special place. I teared up, romanticizing them one day having the paper trail relics of love the same way I have them of my Grandma Willa Mae.

I never met a Pen Pal I didn’t like. Most of mine are under the age of 15 with a smattering of adults. Gift shop associates look at me like a mad woman when I drop $50 worth of cards on the counter. The local post(wo)man must know my cards and my name, I hope they laugh about the amount of things I compare to the size of dinosaurs (Sequoia trees, waterfalls, and the depths of canyons and so on) to keep it topical. They- my tiny and pre-teen and teen pen pals- rarely if ever write back, because receiving is not the point. Giving is.

If you want proof of pen pal magic, you can cry your eyes out at this recent Heavyweight podcast Deborah #66, about 256 letters from Deborah’s first love in WWII.

I put a lot of pressure on myself. A continued undoing practice of my adult life is to…. not do that as much. Recently I’ve been giving myself 15 minute pockets of time in my full-to-the-brim days (it’s so boring when folks talk about how busy they are, isn’t it?). In that pocket, I collage post cards. Dear friends (that obviously know me well) recently gifted me a travel watercolor set. In my 15 minute blocks I’ve been doing process based watercolor and collages on these postcards they gave in tandem.

I adore all kinds of art but especially love the challenge of time-limited process based art. No perfection, only play. I’ll paint, cut, tear, and glue, seeing what I can manage in a small amount of time. I nearly always feel lighter because as it turns out it’s an evidence-based practice that creating daily affects one’s overall mood positively. It has been so life-giving to add this element to my pen pal writing. I’m sharing a little piece of me, the moment, and some creativity, all infused in the handwritten note to mail to people I love. They then get to hold that love and creativity in their hand. Have I convinced you of this magic yet?

January is my birthday month, which rolls into my favorite holiday- Valentine’s day! The day of hugging loved ones in the form of handwritten notes. So as a delightful gift to myself and in conjunction with my favorite holiday, I’m starting something called Dear Someone: A Snail Mail Collective.

Become a paying subscriber to take part in Dear Someone: A Snail Mail Collective.

There will be more details in a post coming on Wednesday, but the long and short of it is I intend to match “Dear Someones” one-to-one and provide some snail mail materials for a postcard exchange in January and February. This will be for paying members only, partially simply due to privacy and cost, partially to provide accessible therapy to those that need it. The free (and totally accessible to all!) version of this is snagging some art supplies or a post card and writing to loved ones already in your life, which I highly suggest!

Monthly subscribers help make my pro-bono therapy work possible—about 20% of my caseload—supporting access to mental health care across socioeconomic backgrounds. Thank you for being part of that care with your subscribing membership. Access to all the details for Dear Someone: A Snail Mail Collective will drop for paying subscribers on Wednesday. Excited to see what comes of this, whether its connection inside the subscription or inspiration to start your own autonomous pen pal relationship.

Long live the handwritten note.

Bird by bird.

xo

-MKB

P.s. Remember Post Secret? I suppose this is the PG and more person to person connected version? Only time will tell.

P.p.s. This was drafted while listening to Ken Pomeroy, who I discovered last month. I can’t stop listening to her album Cruel Joke. I’m a sucker for repeated references to cicadas with any artist.